Fruit Bats - Mouthfuls
(Subpop)
Sub Pop has spared no expense on the packaging of this second album from Chicago's Fruit Bats: the booklet feels like a piece of cheap construction paper with the credits stenciled on in microscopic, unreadable piss-yellow print and the disk itself simply displays the band name in large, white block letters. Probably set them back about 75 cents. Luckily, that frugality doesn't extend to the music housed within, which, from the opening, "Rainbow Sign" (a summery, whimsical pop tune with acoustic guitars, piano, vibes and Beach Boys-styled harmonies), through to the closing bouncy, toetapping, handclapping, singalong hoedown of "When U Love Somebody," (which is eerily similar to the Flaming Lips' "Turn It On," the last good thing they did before Wayne Coyne discovered Mantovani and turned into Ali MacGraw's brother in Goodbye Columbus) is a fairly consistent winner. "A Bit of Wind" (whose lyric, "It takes mouthfuls of Niagaras" provides the set with its title) repeats the opener's upbeat groove, with leader Eric Johnson pulling off a marvelous Brian Wilson vocal impersonation. I'd place it somewhere in the "Smiley Smile"/"Wild Honey" era. There's also a bit of Jim Rao's Orange Cake Mix filtering through the harmonies and lightweight electronics.
"Magic Hour" sounds like Norwegian pop kings, Dipsomaniacs with a tone deaf vocalist (strange how Johnson's skills fade in and out throughout the record) and "The Little Acorn" demonstrates everything that is wrong and worthless with the alt.country/Americana movement: aimless, boring, whining, and utterly forgettable. "Track Rabbits" begins like Lennon's "Oh My Love" and morphs into a softly orchestrated, wordless vocal harmony and is the most cinematic piece on the album. It suffers, however, from an air of incompleteness, as if the song faded out before it was finished.
"Union Blanket" has too many annoying percussive effects—it sounds like someone is typing in the recording studio, but there are vestiges of Olivia Tremor Control's "Green Typewriters" emanating from your speakers. "Lazy Eye" is a piano-based drunken singalong that has neither style nor substance to recommend it, although Songs: Ohia and Rivulets fans (obviously, I'm neither) may find it to their liking.
"Slipping through the Sensors" sounds like an old Wilco outtake (more like "Slipping One Past the Censors" if you ask me) or perhaps a lost Jayhawks track.... In either case, it's very good—one of the album highlights. Finally, "Seaweed" is a sleepy, folky, acoustic winner: excuisite harmonies, a memorable melody, and it even drags out the banjo for a few rounds. Excellent when it's good, but awful when it's bad, there are enough of the former tracks to recommend you take a listen, particularly if poppy, hook-laden country rock is your bag.
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